Great Expectations
by Lil black dog
Summary: Chapel's first day through the eyes of the seven main characters in TOS. These are all companion pieces to my story 'One Small Step' about Chapel's first day on the Enterprise. Response to the 2014 ficlet challenge at Ad Astra.
1. Kirk

**Kirk**

He still wasn't quite sure what to make of her. The qualifications were there, in spades—she'd even passed McCoy's muster—but there was something slightly unsettling about a crewman who was here not for the opportunity to make a worthwhile contribution to the betterment of Mankind, or to be an active participant in cutting-edge scientific discoveries, or even for the sheer ability to delve deeply into the vast unknown that was the cosmos, but strictly for her own interests.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. McCoy had been bugging him for months about getting a suitable head nurse, and she certainly fit the bill, but the question that kept niggling at the back of his brain was, how long would she stay realistically? If they found her fiancé, Roger Korby, on Exo III during the ship's scheduled visit to that planet in a few months—Starfleet had had no contact whatsoever from the prominent scientist, or his team, for five years now—would she leave in favor of joining Korby's expedition? And more importantly, did he have the authority, or even the right, to stop her if that was her decision? As per her orders, the posting was listed as temporary; she had the ability to 'opt out' of her commission, and her career in Starfleet, if she so chose.

That's what was eating him. He leaned back in his chair, a hand pressed to his neck, trying to rub away some of the tension that had settled there. He'd spent the last few months trying to assemble his core crew—the one that would ultimately undertake the historic five-year mission—from the best and brightest Starfleet had to offer, and once they were selected and posted, his goal was to mold them into a cohesive unit, not have that core shaken, allowing bits and pieces to fly off and be scattered to the four winds.

Truth be told, he'd instantly liked her when he met her in the mess earlier. Although the encounter had been brief—he planned to follow up with her one-on-one tomorrow in order to more accurately assess her, and her credentials—he had already gotten the impression of a quiet strength, dependability, unwavering loyalty, and someone who could stand up to his CMO's less than sparkling personality.

Only time would tell whether they had made the right choice in selecting her, and whether she would be a good fit with the crew, or someone relegated to the periphery, just waiting for a better opportunity to come along.

From what he'd already seen, she was someone they could ill-afford to lose. It would be up to him, and the other senior officers—he'd have to convince McCoy to be on his best, least crotchety behavior over the next few weeks—to ensure that she was happy here, so when the time came for her to make the decision regarding her future, she could only see one viable option open to her.


	2. Spock

**A/N:** This ties into my story 'For the First Time,' but it's not necessary to read that piece for this one to make sense...I hope.

**Spock**

Meditation was proving difficult this evening. Try as he might, the upper levels continued to elude him. He turned his focus to the root cause. He just couldn't get the incident out of his mind. He had sensed something when steadying Nurse Chapel after their unfortunate collision in the corridor earlier today—something he had felt, six years ago, from Leila. The tips of his ears flushed green, his cheeks becoming hot with embarrassment, and regret, as he remembered that long-ago conference the two of them had attended in Salzburg, Austria, and the unwitting part he had played in the emotional wounding of that young woman. Wounds she had suffered at his hands, all because understanding the complexities of the female human heart had escaped him. Much as he had tried to make peace with what had happened, he was still haunted by the experience, and the pain he had caused her.

Surely this situation was different. He had to be misreading it. They weren't even acquainted—on any level—before this afternoon. Some human emotions, especially those dealing with love and affection, were still difficult for him to comprehend, particularly when directed at him.

The shock he'd sensed when he'd grasped the nurse's arm to help keep her on her feet, the quickening of her heartbeat, the sharp intake of breath, the dilation of her pupils—all had to be due to their collision, he was certain. The feelings radiating from her couldn't possibly be romantic in nature. She had signed on as a member of the crew with the intention of locating her fiancé, which would certainly preclude her from having anything other than a professional interest in him. It had to simply have been due to her completely understandable embarrassment at literally running into a superior officer. To her mind, surely a poor start to her first day aboard the _Enterprise._

When he'd spoken with her briefly in the mess hours later she had seemed calm, collected, the epitome of composed professionalism. None of the earlier discomfiture, or uncertainty, had been evident, either visually or rolling off of her in tactile waves.

Eyes closed, he shook his head slightly, as if that action would wipe the unfamiliar sensations and unpleasant memories from his conscious mind. Learning of her background in bio-research, he had offered to let her assist him with several ongoing experiments in the lab. He would keep that commitment, and over the course of the next few weeks, would surely come to realize that his initial assessment of her had been pure folly.


	3. McCoy

**McCoy**

The jury was still out, he thought to himself as he nursed a bourbon in his quarters before retiring for the evening, but she'd definitely earned some brownie points. Starting with her choice to remain silent during his tirade in the transporter room when she first arrived aboard ship. She'd appeared to be a consummate professional, and already knew when to bite her tongue. Qualities every good nurse should have, in his estimation.

When he'd called her down to sickbay half an hour before her shift was due to start to help him with a patient (most of the staff was currently on shore leave on Starbase 12), she'd arrived in a timely manner, and already knew where sickbay was located. That made him grin—or angry, he wasn't sure which. It had taken him a week to figure out where everything was on this damned humongous tin can—one curved hallway looked much like another, as did all the decks in the saucer section, and those in the main body of the ship. Seemed she was already ahead of the curve in that respect.

When Scotty and Daniels (a petty officer from Engineering) arrived in sickbay, she'd practiced laudable restraint, allowing him to assess the young man's injury unmolested, patiently waiting for instructions. He could have cleaned and dressed the wound himself, but wanted to observe her technique.

She definitely selected the right items from the tray he'd prepped beforehand (he couldn't expect her to do that—it was her first day so naturally she wouldn't know where anything was yet), and had shown just the right mix of compassion and competence when tending to the boy's burned hand.

After they'd finished with Daniels and sent him to his quarters, McCoy had given her a cursory tour of sickbay, ending in the main ward. She'd taken the initiative and asked about the conditions of the two patients currently there. She wanted to be clear on their medications and prognoses, she'd explained.

Afterward, she began familiarizing herself with where various pieces of equipment and medications were located, insisting that she could do it herself, with the promise to ask if she couldn't find something, or was unfamiliar with a particular machine or drug. That had freed him up to continue entering data for various crew physicals he'd conducted last week.

When he returned from lunch he found her making an entry in the medical log. Seemed she'd treated a patient while he was gone. Lieutenant DeSalle's foot had missed a rung while he was descending a ladder between decks, and he'd dislocated his shoulder. It was definitely something she could handle on her own so she'd popped his left scapula back into the joint, used a regenerator to tighten strained ligaments, and sent him on his way with a mild analgesic and a promise to have the injury reevaluated tomorrow.

He grinned. Yep, she was gonna work out just fine. And she was easy on the eyes to boot.


	4. Scotty

**A/N: **A look at the softer, chivalrous side of Montgomery Scott

**Scotty**

He liked her already—immensely. He'd seen something in the transporter room when she'd beamed aboard that brought out the fatherly—or brotherly—instincts in him. The doctor's tirade, for which she was clearly unprepared, had bothered him on an unnamable level, so much so that he had felt the need to reassure her before she followed the ship's irascible CMO out the door. By now the crew at large was used to their CMO's often unprovoked "apoplectic fits," his penchant for railing at technology, or the Brass, or emotionless Vulcans, or some convoluted mixture of all three, already infamous. Today, that personality quirk had been clearly on display, but a newly-assigned bonnie lass, especially one as nice as she seemed to be, shouldn't have to be subjected to that within two seconds of meeting her immediate superior.

He'd done his best to reassure her in those brief few moments; let her know that the ship's surgeon was all gruff and bluster on the surface only—all bark and no bite. It looked as if it had helped a little, for she appeared to be just a bit more relaxed when she'd followed McCoy out of the transporter room.

Little did he realize at the time that he'd be seeing her again in less than half an hour, with Daniels in tow. The lad was promising from an engineering standpoint, but often reckless and clumsy where safety was concerned—excitable, and a little overzealous in his efforts to get the job done. He was young, though, and his proclivity for speed over employing the correct (and safe) technique was something he was sure to outgrow with more experience and under the proper tutelage. The junior petty officer had received a nasty burn to his hand, and Chapel was there, in sickbay, when he'd taken the young man for treatment.

After McCoy had assessed the injury, it was she who cleaned and dressed the wound, all the while chatting amiably with Daniels, making the whole ordeal just a bit less traumatic for him. When Scott had stopped by the lad's quarters after shift to check on him, he found out that Chapel had been there first, minutes ago, in fact. His estimation of her increased another notch. Odds were McCoy hadn't sent her—he'd have come himself, or called Daniels back down to sickbay, if he were really concerned. She had shown up with a tray of dinner for the boy in an effort to keep him from having to brave the mess hall himself, and possibly damage the new skin she and the doctor had so carefully applied to the wound.

Upon exiting Daniel's quarters, Scotty made a mental note to visit the new head nurse later that evening, and personally thank her for being so kind and thoughtful to one of his lads.


	5. Sulu

A/N: We all knew that one day Sulu's hobbies were going to come back to haunt him…

Sulu

Oh my God—he loved her already. Her first day aboard and she'd already saved his bacon. He shuddered to think how the curmudgeonly CMO would have taken the "incident" that resulted in DeSalle's dislocated shoulder.

McCoy had been warning him for weeks now that someone was going to get hurt during one of Sulu's sparring/training sessions. DeSalle and he both had been to sickbay several times over the last month sporting minor bruises, sprains, hell, even a shiner.

This time, though, when DeSalle hit the mat after a particularly swift throw there had been a distinctive "pop." One look at Vince's face, contorted in pain, told Sulu that this was more than just another run-of-the-mill contusion. He'd hoisted the navigator to his feet and the two set off for sickbay, Sulu's gut in a knot, already anticipating the CMO's less-than-pleased reaction.

When they arrived, however, the ward was deserted save for a comely blue-eyed blond in a nurse's uniform.

"What happened?" she'd asked, scanner in one hand while long fingers delicately probed the offending joint.

"We were sparring," Sulu began, "and Vince landed wrong." He hung his head. "Doctor McCoy is going to _kill_ me," he lamented. "He's been telling me something like this was bound to happen." He paused, looking first to DeSalle and then to Chapel. "Is it broken?"

"No, just dislocated. An easy fix," she said, dialing up a painkiller and injecting her patient. The pinched look disappeared from DeSalle's face almost immediately as the analgesic took effect. She had DeSalle lie down on the biobed, grabbed the navigator's arm, and in a flurry of motion popped his scapula back in before Sulu could blink.

She helped DeSalle sit up. "Just let me tighten those ligaments a little," she announced, running a regenerator over his shoulder, "and you'll be good as new. It'll be sore for a few days, and weaker than normal, so absolutely no strenuous activity, got it?" she admonished, fixing each man with a pointed stare.

"He won't, honest," Sulu promised at once. He paused, the next question asked haltingly, hesitantly. "Look, Nurse…"

"Chapel," she supplied.

"Chapel," he echoed, licking his lips. "Is there any way we can keep this…you know…off the record?"

"Sorry, I can't not log the injury," Sulu's face fell at that, "but I might be able to attribute it to something else," she finished with a sly grin, "so long as the doctor doesn't get back and find you here. Given the way you're dressed, I doubt he'd believe me."

"Really? We'd pay you back, I swear." DeSalle nodded in agreement.

"The only 'payment' I'll accept is a promise that you'll be more careful in the future. I won't cover for you again," she said, hands on hips, eyeing the two men dubiously.

"We promise," the two squeaked in unison, "and thanks," Sulu added.

"Just see that you show up tomorrow for a recheck, Lieutenant," she said, addressing DeSalle. "I'll let you know later how I logged it."


	6. Uhura

A/N: My take on this is that the two women had a connection that went well beyond a simple nurse/patient relationship in the TOS episode 'The Changeling' IMHO.

**Uhura**

She'd made a friend for life today—not just a casual acquaintance—she could feel it. When she'd first approached the new head nurse in the mess, it really had been with the intention of making sure she was doing okay. As the communications officer on duty, Uhura had served as the liaison between the ship's surgeon and the personnel office on Starbase 12 as they spent two hours trying to locate the missing orders assigning Chapel to the _Enterprise_. By the end, Doctor McCoy was pretty mad—fit to be tied, in fact—and she wanted to be sure that his anger hadn't spilled over—however unintentionally—onto the newly-assigned crewman.

She'd made an excuse to sit with Chapel and then carefully probed for information, diplomatically relaying the facts of their CMO's "personality quirks," and reassuring the young woman that any outbursts he'd had since she came aboard earlier today weren't really directed at her, but at the circumstances—and bureaucratic red tape—responsible for the delay in getting her posted to her new position.

Unbelievably, they'd wound up chatting for over an hour, like old friends, over dinner and then coffee long since grown cold. Christine had talked about her fiancé, and how she hoped to find him when the ship visited Exo III in a few months. She also admitted that this was her first posting to deep space, something she found a little intimidating, truth be told.

Much to her surprise, Uhura talked about her love of languages, and how pursuing that passion pretty much guaranteed that a job in the cosmos was in the cards for her, but for her, that was fine—she'd loved space ever since she was a little girl and had seen the pristine beauty that was the Milky Way splashed across the night sky above her small village. She'd even opened up about her family—something she hadn't done with anyone else aboard—and how much she missed home, and her native tongue.

Christine excused herself then, saying she had to check on a patient, but not before Uhura had elicited a promise from Chapel to go with her to one of the rec rooms later that evening.

They arrived around 20:30, Uhura introducing the vibrant young woman to everyone present. The nurse had been affable and outgoing, making a favorable impression on everyone there. Before long, Uhura found herself in front of the room, fulfilling requests for songs. She glanced at Christine, who had been drawn into a spirited game of poker, laughing and joking with the other players.

The two had promised to meet for breakfast in the morning, and Uhura intended to show Christine around the ship tomorrow after shift.

Yes, she admitted to herself, snuggling down into her comforter, there was just something about Christine that made her seem safe; made people willing to open up to her. Uhura sighed contentedly. It helped to know that she already had one true friend aboard.


	7. Chekov

A/N: And here's the final chapter in the tale of Chapel. Two newly-assigned crewmen discover they have more in common than they thought.

**Chekov**

As he entered the darkened arboretum he was surprised to see a figure seated on a bench, given the lateness of the hour.

He turned to go but a soft, musical voice stopped him.

"You don't have to leave on my account. There's plenty of room in here, and a little company would be nice." She patted the seat next to her, grinning widely. He complied with the tacit request.

"Christine Chapel, new head nurse," she announced, holding out her hand.

"Ensign Pavel Chekov," he said, shaking it firmly, "currently assigned to auxiliary control."

"Nice to meet you, Ensign." An awkward pause. "It's really beautiful in here. It reminds me so much of home." He remained silent so she forged on. "It's my first day in space and, much as I wanted to be here, I just needed something familiar."

He nodded in agreement. "A career in space has been my goal since I was a little boy in Kashin, and later during my advanced schooling in Moscow, but two months of being in the same room day after day made me long for the comforts of Russia." He grinned. "Too bad it's not colder, or snowing."

She laughed at that.

Emboldened, he continued. "How did you know where to find this place? During their first day most new crewmen are happy just to figure out where their duty station is, or their quarters, or the mess."

"I've been studying the schematics ever since I found out ten days ago that I'd be assigned here."

Chekov snickered. "That's what most people do, except for our CMO. During his first week he wandered the halls aimlessly, muttering under his breath that it wasn't natural for man to be flying through space in a glorified tin can." As the words left his lips his eyes widened as he realized he'd just make disparaging remarks to this woman about her immediate superior. He swallowed nervously. "He's an excellent doctor, though," he added, hoping to take some of the superciliousness out of his words.

Surprisingly, Chapel grinned in response. "That's the general vibe I've gotten from everyone today. The man is an enigma to be sure." She switched gears. "So, auxiliary control isn't your thing," she observed sagely. "Where do you hope to end up?"

"My goal is to be assigned to the bridge crew within a year. I have training in navigation, and I've been brushing up on other areas on the side—the sciences, mostly—in hopes that I'll have a unique skill set that will set me apart from other candidates. Besides," he continued, "being part of the bridge crew would guarantee me landing party duty. I'd get to see grass and feel the sun on my face on a regular basis."

"Sounds wonderful." She rose to her feet. "I really should be going—early shift in the morning. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ensign."

He stood as well. "Trust me, the pleasure was all mine."


End file.
